*********

Marchan looked at Trevor sadly. He knew that eventually they would have to part ways, but he had hoped it would not come so soon. Trevor pulled out his orders and read them again slowly.

'Hey,' he said suddenly. 'These order say nothing about stopping here. I'm merely ordered to escort you to the limits of the kingdom. What I do after that is not specified. As such, I will take the course that seems logical and correct to me. And that is to accompany you further on.'

'Do you mean it?' asked Marchan. 'Are you sure it's okay?'

'Actually, that was why the Cap'n wrote them this way,' said Trevor, breaking into a laugh. 'He knew I had no desire to return to the Capital any time soon. And that my father would punish me whenever I return.'

'What? Why's that?' asked Marchan.

'Well, you know of the document I retrieved from my father's study. Also, he gave me a sound beating the day he showed up at the Hall of Records. He knew that you were there when he saw the chess pieces I bought from you. Somehow he knew that a dwarf made them.'

'You got a beating because of me?' Marchan got out.

'Yes, unfortunately,' said Trevor. 'But don't worry about it. It's in the past. And I hope I'm better for it. Anyway, let's continue our journey.'

They journeyed onward. Very suddenly the roads all but disappeared. They went from wide streets paved with stone to what were little more than dirt paths through the wilderness. The paths wound around from here to there, meandering like river beds.

Eventually they came to a small walled town. There did not seem to be any fields around the town and when they knocked on the gate a burly man answered from atop the walls.

'And 'ho be you,' said the man.

It did not quite sound like a question but Trevor called up, 'Travellers!'

'Your uniform gives you away,' replied the man. 'You be an skirm'sher! To arms!' This last bit he yelled over his shoulder back into the town.

'No,' called Trevor. 'We're just peaceful travellers.'

'Not dressed like that,' said the man.

They could hear the sound of men on the other side of the gate getting ready for combat. Trevor looked at Marchan and then called up to the man, 'Very well,' and took a knife to his uniform, quickly shredding it to pieces.

'Hold on,' said the man loudly. 'Are you then a spy?'

'Hardly,' said Trevor. 'I've already let you know I'm a peaceful traveller. And you'll hardly let me into your confidence. But I don't want there anyway. I just want lodgings for the night and then I will continue my journey.'

'Aye, very well then. There's an inn down the road. They usually put up merchants and the like. Don't try to cheat the master of the house though, or we'll be after you for sure.'

'Thanks for the directions, and the warning,' called Trevor.

Marchan and Trevor continued down the road and soon found the inn. It was built in a defensive style, no windows on the outside on the ground floor, three wings around a central cloister and a wall covering the final side of the square. At first the master of the house looked suspiciously at Trevor's tattered garments, but welcomed them quite well when he saw their gold. They were brought into the common room while a room was made ready for them.

'Lovely looking world, isn't it?' said a short man coming up to Marchan.

'Eh? What's that?' asked Marchan.

'Lovely looking world,' said the man motioning to a painting on the wall of a beautiful grassy valley and trees on the slopes of the far side. Marchan immediately felt pulled into the painting. It was quite lovely.

'Why yes,' said Marchan. 'Is that not in this world?'

'What?' said the man. 'You don't recognize the work of an Ancient painter?'

'The innkeeper owns an Ancient painting?'

'Oh, this is a copy, to be sure,' said the man. 'But it's most definitely a painting of the Home of the Ancients. See the strange trees running in a line across the fields beside the road? The ones that seem to have some sagging line between them? Those don't grow on our world.'

'Oh, I didn't notice those,' said Marchan. He started to wonder where Trevor was all this time, but then noticed him in a corner talking to another stranger.

'I've travelled to many places,' said the man. 'But I've never seen such strange trees.'

'You've travelled?' said Marchan. 'Have you ever met any dwarves?'

'Terrible few,' said the man. 'You're probably the fifth I've ever seen. As far as I can tell your kind keep pretty much to themselves. I only came to talk to you because I figured you must not be like that to have a Man as your companion.'

'To tell the truth, I've not many any dwarves at all in my life. I don't know what they're like,' said Marchan. 'I'm looking for some just now.'

'Well, I couldn't tell you where to find any. I remember about a score of years ago seeing a small band of three pass through my home town. That's long way from here and proabably a bad spot to start looking anyway. Then a few years later a saw a couple in Listowell. I seem to remember hearing a rumour of an army coming to the aid of the Capital kingdom. You could ask them if you'd care to enter that kingdom.'

'We just came from there,' said Marchan. 'All their Hall of Records could find was that there was once Dwarven Halls far to the east beyond the bay of Chittay.'

'Oh, you've been in the uncanny kingdom?'

'Why do you call it uncanny?'

'Don't you think it odd that their current King has been on the throne for eight score and more years? That's what they say anyway. And they say he'll go on living forever. Not nat'ral, that's not.'

'Oh, I guess I never thought of it.'

'And there's these stories of doctors that can raise men from the dead. I'm wondering myself if their King hasn't been raised a few times himself. We calls them zombies where I come from.'

'I'm sure that's not it,' said Marchan getting a little uncomfortable with where the conversation might be headed. He decided to change the topic. 'And would you know a way across the Bay of Chittay?'

'Well sure,' said the man. 'Never been across there myself. All I've heard tell there's not much to interest a man. There's a volcano that spits out some liquid earth from time to time; other than that, nothing interesting. But if you want to get there, you can travel southeast from here and go south of the Bay and around to the volcano that way. Or you can go a bit northeast from here and come to a Eastport on the other side of the mountains. From the Eastport, you can maybe hire a ship if you've got the money. Or some way to pay for it.'

Just then, Trevor and the person he had been talking to came up to Marchan and the other man.

'Telling your tall tales again, Canod?' asked Trevor's companion.

'Sinter, my tales are quite true,' said Marchan's companion.

Sinter turned to Marchan. 'This man you're talking to is called Canod. He appeared in our village about six months ago with wild stories of all kinds of areas of the world. If you wish to listen to him, you're welcome to, but the villagers generally disregard him and don't much appreciate anyone getting him started on his stories. Most of them are quite impossible.'

'I see you've some dispute with him,' said Marchan. 'No worries, he wasn't telling me any impossible stories. I was just asking him how to get across the Bay of Chittay.'

'That I wouldn't recommend,' said Sinter. 'It's terrible out there. In fact, to get there you have to cross the mountain range. Winter's coming on and you'll freeze to death. And if you do get past them, there's not much on the other side, from what I hear. Nothing but a few small towns of fisherfolk.'

'That's as may be,' said Marchan. 'But that is where we're going.'

'I can lead you as far as Eastport,' said Canod. 'I was there, once, in my wandering days.'

'Was that when you could fly like an eagle?' asked Sinter somewhat sarcastically.

'No, that was after I'd lost my cart,' said Canod.

'Listen,' said Trevor. 'I'd prefer not to hear the tail end of some story. How about Canod, you come sit with us as we have our supper?'

'Why, I'd love to,' he said.

Sinter looked at Trevor disappointed and walked away disgustedly. The three sat down and asked the serving wench to bring them supper.

As they were seated, Marchan realised just how small Canod was. He had nearly as much trouble as Marchan getting into a chair. Marchan looked over at Canod inquisitively.

'I've never met a full grown man as short as you,' he said rather bluntly.

'To be sure,' said Canod. 'I'm not exactly a full grown man. I'm not of the race of men. Or maybe I am. Anyway, all the people in my home town are much shorter than your friend here. I'm about average height for that neighbourhood. I ran away from home and have been looking for a new home since.'

'Interesting,' said Marchan.

'So, are you willing to guide us over the mountains?' asked Trevor. 'You seem to know how to reach the Bay of Chittay and even have an idea how to get across it. I must admit, I do not have the foggiest idea of anything outside the Capital Kingdom.'

'I dare say you don't,' said Canod. 'First off, you might not want to let on so easily that you're from there. The locals all around here are generally consider the kingdom and its people arrogant and dislike or fear them. They do accept merchants and the like, but you're dressed up as soldiers and bear all the arrogance on your shoulders. You'll do well to be a little more humble and keep your tongue quieter.'

'Hmm, I see what you mean,' said Trevor. 'We've other clothes in our packs that are less military looking. And I'll try to take your advice and not hold myself as I've been trained.'

'Good, now,' said Canod. 'The next question is whether you have money. I don't know how you were travelling inside the kingdom, whether on the King's purse, or what, but you'll not get much help from anyone here. They'll want gold and the more you have, the more they'll find things to charge you for.'

'That should not be a problem,' said Marchan. 'We have enough for a little while, and we know how to get more should the need arise.'

'Good,' said Canod. 'Then I think you've got yourself a guide as far as you are willing to take me. I don't claim to all the ins and outs of the land from here to the Bay, but I'm willing to show you as much as I know.'

They finished their supper as Canod told them a bit of the lay of the land ahead. They agreed to his plan to head east by north east toward Eastport and attempt to hire a ship. He assured them the lands to the south of the Bay were dangerous now and they would most likely be waylaid often.

They bedded down for the night and in the morning when they were go settle the bill, the innkeeper gave a low whistle when Marchan pulled out his sack of gold to pay him.

'You need anything else? A new saddle or something?' the man asked, eyeing Marchan's sack. 'I can get you a good one easily enough.'

Canod spoke up, 'No, Balsillie, your guest has a plenty good saddle. You've been well enough paid. Don't bother him any more. You might actually get a repeat customer if you leave him alone.'

'Aye, I might at that,' said Balsillie and moved off.

The three of them mounted their horses, Canod taking the horse that had been the pack horse and they were soon on their way. Once they were out of town and earshot of everyone, Canod pulled up beside Marchan and said, 'Fool. You should never let on in these parts that you have more gold than you need to pay the current man. Letting anyone know you have any money makes you a mark for theives and conmen. Balsillie saw how much you have and will let others know that a rich dwarf is travelling through these parts. We'll be harrased for days to come. If we can even hold onto your gold.'

'There's a quick fix to that then,' said Marchan as he dropped off his horse. Trevor reined in and turned his horse to see what Marchan was up to. Canod reined in as well. Marchan walked over to the side of the road and, pulling out a small spade, which had been one of the gifts from Samuel, quickly dug a small hole and dropped most his remaining gold into it. He quickly put the earth back into the hole and patted it down. He carefully looked around and then, crossed the road. He found three stones, each the size of his head and placed them in a triangle pointing into the forest away from the road. He then walked down the road twenty feet and marked an X on a tree with the sword that Martug had given him. He clicked his down and his horse came up to him.

He mounted and said, 'There, I've very little left to steal. The three of us, know where this is and can return to it should the need arise. If we need more gold as we get farther away, we now how to get more. This will be our stash in this neighbourhood.'

They continued their journey. Within a couple of hours, they heard hoof beats behind them. They turned off the road into the forest. Horses came abreast of where they were. They appeared exhausted, even to Marchan's novice eyes, as though they been ridden very hard beyond their abilities. The men on them were armed and had their swords out. 'We must be close now men,' called one of them as they passed, but Marchan could see that the men were getting tired of the pursuit.